Awakened
by Dreamnorn
Summary: A rewrite of a scene in Dawn of the Dragon. Spyro and Cynder have recently been awakened from their three-year sleep, and tensions are high between the two. "I guess we're all a little tense, eh?" SpyroxCynder oneshot.


**What's up, Spyro fandom? (tossed bricks at) GAH! Okay, I'm REALLY sorry I haven't been active lately. I hate to sound cliche in this, but I completely and totally blame real life for my absence. Spyro: Survivor is in-progress, but it won't be around for a while yet... what? I have twelve hours of school every day. It's kind of hard to work around that AND the after-school homework.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little one-shot I brewed! It's a rewrite of a scene in _Dawn of the Dragon_, where Spyro was trying to break the chain that bound him and Cynder together. I thought Cynder's personality in this game was completely and totally screwed up, so I attempted to breathe life back into her attitude from _The Eternal Night._**

**Hope you like it!**

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Awakened

The night was cold, but Cynder barely felt it. Her black dragon scales were perfect insulators, and they would be much-needed since autumn was fast approaching. If she were in a better mood, she would have marvelled at the nighttime beauty of a valley that might have been her home a long time ago.

But she wasn't in a better mood, and Cynder felt like beating her head with a sharpened stick for an hour. _Why, sweet ancestors…_

_Why him?_

Glaring icily at the dragon to whom she was shackled, Cynder narrowed her dark green eyes. Chained to her with a snake-like charm of the Dark Master's creation, Spyro was struggling to gnaw the glowing beam of energy which bound him and Cynder together. His eyes glowed almost dementedly in the light from the campfire the Hunter of Avalar made. The shadowy silhouette of the Hunter seemed to be gazing at the distant mountaintops.

"It's no use," Spyro finally sighed, spitting little shimmering shards on the ground. "I can't break it."

"Break _what?_ It's magic!" Cynder glowered.

Sparx, Spyro's dragonfly companion, started to laugh. "This never gets old," he grinned, bopping his segmented antennae up and down suggestively.

Suddenly overwhelmed by emotions, the black dragoness snapped, "Quiet, bug-lips!"

The dragonfly's tail curled in offense. Turning to Spyro and folding his arms, he asked, "Yeesh, who put beans in her steak?"

"She's just in a bad mood, that's all."

Cynder's eyes snapped at him, taken aback by his unbelievably calm tone. If he weren't the legendary purple dragon who could easily blast her into next Tuesday, she would have gone over there and slapped him. Instead, she took a swipe at Sparx.

"I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE IN A BAD MOOD!"

"Don't yell at Sparx like that!" snarled Spyro, his eyes flickering with annoyance.

"Yeah," Sparx unhelpfully interjected, "Don't yell at me like that! I didn't do anything wrong!"

"SHUT UP!" Cynder exploded, discharging her energy through a Phantom Wail. Screaming like a duckling with a sore throat, Sparx was flung perilously close to the campfire. His antenna singed a little as he landed right by the Hunter of Avalar's feet.

Spyro clenched his teeth, struggling to maintain his rising temper.

It didn't work.

With a brilliant flash, the black dragoness found herself crashing against a rock on the plateau. Her body felt beaten, limp, in the grass she fell into. She knew this feeling. Spyro had blasted her with an Earth Shot.

And, speak of the dragon, there he was, charging right at her. Grabbing her shoulders, he roared, "Quit shouting at us! Sparx was only trying to lighten the mood! Is that so bad!?" He paused for a second, shuddering as if he had just released a lot of energy, and demanded, "Cynder, what on earth has gotten into you?!"

She found herself sinking beneath his amethyst gaze. A new, chilling sensation rippled through her lean muscles. Spyro was not one for sudden outbursts.

"I could ask you the same thing."

The fire died from Spyro's eyes. He stepped backwards a little, gradually realizing that he had just physically attacked her. The Hunter, who was patiently patrolling the camp by the fire, looked at them sadly and sighed bitterly to the wind. Sparx whizzed by Spyro's nose. In that brief instant, Cynder thought she saw tears forming on the bridge of his snout.

"That's enough, you two." The dragons turned at the rich, deep voice to see the Hunter rise up against the faint silhouette of Mt. Boyzitbig. The cheetah's crimson robes billowed like a war flag from the sudden movement, and his spotted tail swished some leaves into the air. "Though you may not be aware of it, all of you have undergone many changes. Your bodies are unaccustomed to the hormones and growing which you have been silently gaining over the years you spent in perpetual sleep. Rest—that will ensure a better spirit tomorrow. You've had a long day."

At the Hunter's words, Cynder and Spyro relaxed their muscles and began to settle down on the grass. They were in no mood to argue anymore. The warmth of the fire accompanied by the long, springy grass comforted Cynder as she closed her eyes and waited for sleep.

Sparx flew by the Hunter and complained, "So, that's it, then?"

"Yes."

"But Cynder didn't say she was sorry!"

Even though Cynder couldn't see what was happening, she heard the Hunter of Avalar groan with exasperation.

"She'll apologize tomorrow."

"She flung me through a fire!"

"Please shut up, Sparx."

"Why?! Give me one good reason."

"I said 'please,' didn't I?"

The conversation silenced. Cynder didn't need to see to know that the little dragonfly was trying to find a trump for Hunter's explanation, but was failing miserably. She smirked silently as she imagined their expressions.

With a little fizz, the campfire was doused. Cynder's eyes fluttered open and locked on Spyro, who was curled up four feet away. Sparx blanketed himself with the corner of Spyro's right wing—his favorite sleeping spot. In the background she could also see the Hunter of Avalar's silhouette guarding their makeshift campsite.

Her eyes drifted once again to the purple dragon. His sturdy chest rose and fell gently like wind rolling over the ground, and his well-proportioned tail was wrapped around his right side (also providing something for Sparx to cuddle). The scars he had from the battle with Gaul were still raw even though it was several years ago. Shivering, Cynder realized that his Time Fury must have preserved them.

Her thoughts went on a tangent from that point. Cynder had grown up raised by Gaul and the Dark Master—and a cruel pair they made. They forced her to mature to her adult size early through the use of arcane spells and curses. She was their pawn, a servant unaware of the chaos she was causing. Those memories continued to haunt her even after Spyro bested her in combat and broke the spell which kept her an adult.

Because of those enchantments, Cynder had never properly experienced adolescent hormones and emotional trauma. But then again, she thought, Spyro never had experienced them either. As she watched him fall into deeper sleep, she wondered how hard his life must have been: leaving home, battling the Dark Master's endless soldiers, saving lives, and venturing far away from the dragon temple and the swamp he called his home.

_Where IS the swamp now, I wonder?_

Back when Cynder was under the Dark Master's curse, she had explored most of the dragon realms. The geography had changed astronomically since then; the Valley of Avalar used to be a swampy area. _Does that mean…_

For some reason, Cynder's heart rose in her throat. If Spyro knew that, what would he say? What would he _do_? After tonight's outburst, Cynder wasn't sure what to think.

But, she did know the right thing for _her_ to do.

Ever-so-quietly, she padded forward to Spyro's resting figure. She sucked in a deep breath, preparing herself for what she was about to say. But nanoseconds before she could speak, she heard a soft voice murmur, "I'm sorry."

Confused, the dragoness whispered, "What?"

"I'm sorry," Spyro repeated, his voice growing fuller and stronger as he became more awake. He turned his head to face Cynder. She stifled a concerned gasp. His eyes were pink from tears. "I-I shouldn't have at-t-tacked you like that," he stuttered.

A wave of calm washed over Cynder; it felt weird and motherly both at the same time. She placed a paw on Spyro's shoulder and hushed him gently. He only looked up at her with nervous, pleading eyes.

"I… I'm the one who should be sorry," she mumbled, trying to avoid eye-contact by staring at her toes. "I shouldn't have pushed you that far. It's not your fault."

Spyro chuckled half-heartedly and lifted her chin to face him. His nose wasn't a foot away from hers. Somewhere in her chest, Cynder began to grow hot. "We've been trapped in a crystal for three years and the Dark Master has returned. I guess we're kind of tense, eh?"

He flashed her one of his trademark good-natured grins. A weird instinct from within Cynder urged her to smile back. _He has such… wonderful eyes…_

One look from Spyro told her that he was expecting a response. Suddenly a little flustered, she stumbled, "Uh, heheh, yeah… tense." Playfully, Cynder snarled, "But I bet I'm tenser than you are!"

"Is that so?" Spyro beamed, his eyes narrowing into confident slits. Putting on a mock-manly voice, he boomed, "I assure you, poor delusional Cynder, that _I_ am the one who is tenser!"

"Liar!" she laughed as she gently pushed Spyro back on the grass. He writhed on the ground for a moment, pretending to be fatally wounded, and then wheeled back up and pounced at Cynder.

"Gah!" they screamed as they began rolling around, mischievously batting each other with their padded paws and sheathed claws, giggling all the while. Sparx, who was suddenly moved from his sleeping spot, looked up from where he was on the ground to see his adoptive brother playing with his former enemy. His antennae moved a little in interest, but he didn't move forward to stop them. Sighing happily, Sparx quietly sat back and watched his brother run around and have fun for the first time in years. To a brother, this was a beautiful sight.

The dragonfly mumbled to himself, "Sweet dreams, little brother. And you, too, Cynder—welcome to the family."

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**Woohah! Any feedback or critique is appreciated. Thanks for reading!**


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